


Just Takes Some Getting Used To

by CaptainCarters



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCarters/pseuds/CaptainCarters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1,402 words // Peggy/Bucky set in the modern day - based on the AU where Bucky wasn't taken by HYDRA immediately following Steve's death & he and Peggy had a few good years together before their lives were turned upside down. An ageless, enhanced Peggy Carter who works for SHIELD finds him and it takes a long time but eventually he remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Takes Some Getting Used To

It’s the hour where the walls and floorboards begin to settle. Creaking and bowing quietly in the night. She remembers those sounds scaring her half to death when she was little, but she can hardly be bothered to notice them now. She’s perched atop his hips and surely, the bones of her knees are digging uncomfortably into his sides, but he doesn’t say so. The city goes on several stories below them; never silencing, never sleeping. A lot like them, in some respects. Though they find time for the silence. Time to just be. Times like these when the lights from the streets and the moon glare dimly through the long window. The curtain flutters from the ceiling fan, but it doesn’t make any sounds. Everything around them is still, quiet. Even their breathing is slow, synced. It’s been like this for nearly a month now. His memory having served him well enough two or three months before this night that they’d begun to grow back together. More than seventy years had passed them both by since they’d had nights like these. Peggy can remember them, every one, as clear as day. Bucky would like to, she knows that, but some things are still hazy and she understands. He remembers her, though. Remembers their life, mostly. Pale fingers dance across the map of scars that mark his chest, counting each one over and over again the way she does every night. There are more than enough, but she knows every one. She doesn’t ask where they come from, not unless he tells her on his own. Frankly, she isn’t sure she always wants to know. The thought of a blade or a bullet or god knows what else making him bleed is enough to make her squeeze her eyes shut and huff out an unsteady breath. She can still smell the lingering scent of the crimson metal that pooled on their floor the day she walked in and found the scene. Everything was there except for him. A few busted windows, lots of broken furniture and odd objects tossed around. Blood puddled and dripped across the stark white floor. His blood. The smell still stings her nose, a reminder of the only time she can remember her stomach twisting and knotting at the sight and smell of the stuff since before she joined the war.   

_“I don’t want to hurt you.” he’d whispered on the first night she’d let him collect her in his arms since 1950. She’d shaken her head told him that he wouldn’t and then let herself melt into his arms. She’d cried afterwards, of course she’d cried. When she did it was cold metal that tugged her against his warm chest instead of flesh. She’d winced at first but she’d buried her face against the steady pulse thumping underneath the thin skin of his neck and she breathed deeply , shakily, because they were alive. He was alive and holding her. Whispered ‘I love you’s’ and strangled sobs pressed against his skin until he’d soothed her enough for her to fall asleep. He hadn’t slept that night. Hours passed and all he did was watch her, brush his silver thumb against her bare side. Watched the steady rise and fall of her chest underneath her hand that held the sheets tightly to her. Sees the glint of the diamond ring on the chain around her neck in the low light. He swallows thickly and wills his breath not to hitch when he thinks about everything he’d missed; everything he’d taken from her._

  It’s been a month since that night. She’s perched atop his hips and surely, the bones of her knees are digging uncomfortably into his sides, but he doesn’t say so. Her hair is so long now, straight and dark where it hangs over him and brushes against his cheek and neck. Peggy’s thumb runs over his lips, dark eyes gliding easily over his features. Both hands are on her hips, firm and secure. She kisses him again, for what might be the hundredth time that night, ( he doesn’t know he won’t keep count, won’t complain ) and when his eyes squeeze shut and a soft sound is breathed against his lips, his grip tightens just so. She flinches slightly, wincing and humming at the sharp pain of the metal fingertips digging into her side just a little too hard. She smiles right after, though, quick to reassure him when his eyes become worried and his fleshly fingers come up to her face, brushing her cheek and putting her hair behind her ears as he mutters his sincere apology over and over again. Delicate fingers retract from his chest to wrap around both of his wrists. The metal one still at her side, resting much too carefully  & the other that’s brushing against her face. A soft, knowing smile is tugging at the corners of Peggy’s mouth as she looks down at him. Her eyes run over him for a moment or two, from the rippled muscles of his stomach just below her bare thighs that run all the way up his chest and then to his arms and shoulders. He was always strong, always muscular but this was all very new to her. Still, as far as she was concerned, he was just as much her James now as he had been all those years ago. Peggy brings his right hand up to her lips as she shakes her head, pressing a feather-light kiss to his knuckles before letting their hands rest against his chest. The big t-shirt she wears rides up where it’s been resting against the tops of her legs when she shifts slightly, revealing the dark underwear underneath. He’s not paying it any attention, though, his worried eyes are focused on her face instead. “It’s quite alright, my darling. Don’t look so fretful. You didn’t hurt me, I’m fine.” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering but she is, the soft smile evident in her voice as well as on her lips. “I hurt you. It’s already bruising, Peg.” Bucky mutters solemnly, after lifting the edge of her shirt up to look at the already dark purple spot blooming just above her hip bone. Peggy’s hand comes to rest over the cool metal, smoothing her shirt back down in the process. “I’m fine, I promise you. I’ve had much worse, i won’t be troubled by a tiny bruise, James.” His light eyes return to her’s for a moment and she tilts her head to the side slightly, still seeing the guilt traced all over his features. She knew that feeling. The same one that had haunted her since she could remember. She’s said it a hundred million times since he’s been back to her, a hundred million times before he’d ever been taken away, and she’d say it just that many or more before all of this was over. If a reminder was what he needed, that’s what he would have. “I love you, James. All of you. I always did.” Her hand moves to the mangled scars where the metal meets his skin and she lets her fingers flutter over them slightly, moving down the shoulder and across the dark red star there. “This,” Peg runs her hand down the full length of his arm, feeling each segment and ripple and edge, “Is a part of you. It’ll just –––– take some getting used to. You forget, I’m not as fragile as I used to be.” She knows he can hear the smirk in her voice. “Dammit, Peg, you were never fragile. Brazen, since the day I met you.” She laughs, and she hears him chuckle lightly too. Peggy leans forward again in the dark, lips finding his easily even if she can hardly see him. She doesn’t need to see to find him, to know him. His every feature was committed to her memory in a thousand ways. “you know what I mean. A little more ––– durable now. Bruise’ll be gone by morning.” She kisses him again and his hand comes back to her face, thumb running lightly over her cheekbone as he leans, deepening the kiss. “I love you, too, you know?” He mumbles when they break, his mouth still close enough for their lips to brush with his words. “I know.” She nods, smiling even as their mouths meld together once again.


End file.
